There’s something absolutely beautiful about the pain that comes from pushing your limits – overstepping your self inflicted boundaries.
Something beautiful about continuing in those moments when every sinew in your body is screaming the complete opposite, when every drill seems to weigh a heavier toll than the next, when your every limb feels on fire, when you’re dazed in the physical intensity of the moment, when you don’t know whether it’s perspiration or tears that blind you, when every inch and ounce of your being tells you to give in – and you don’t. When somehow the grit in you wills you to keep moving forward.
And you keep fighting. Keep pushing. Keep persevering towards that goal. That’s beauty.
Today as I watched the faces of my fellow classmates, set in raw determination, eyes undisturbed, form poised, every fierce movement timed and calculated, yet in complete fluidity, I was in awe…Awe because of the beauty of struggle. The beauty of perseverance – physically and otherwise. The beauty of determination. Awe because of the beauty of these women who were fighting and training – not only against potential harm outside of them, but against the inner struggles only they know of.
Awe because I was witnessing warriors. Beautiful warriors…